On the Road to Recovery
by FairyTales And Pixie Dust
Summary: Professor Ratigan is a widower who gains four adorable children a year after his wife's passing. Having little experience with them, he seeks help in the form of a lovely former opera star looking for work while the children attempt to play matchmaker for their lonely godfather. AU Brief explanation inside. RxOC Please do not flame. Rated for future chapters
1. Prologue

**This is a story I have had in the works for about a year now, but I haven't gotten around to writing it. Mostly because I lose inspiration, or sheer laziness. The overall idea was for a good version of Professor Ratigan to have lost a wife, gained four children courtesy of an old friend who travels a lot, get overwhelmed, and hire a nanny. And then fall in love with said nanny. This is my rewritten draft of that concept and I'm trying to make it as Victorian-like as I can (I am not from that era, so expect major fail on my part). Lots of research will be put into this such as customs, dress, behavior, laws and all that noise, so updates will be slow and painful. Also several OCs will be making appearances along with Mr. Basil (none of which are paired with Mr. Basil due to my insistence that he is an asexual being much like Mr. Holmes).**

**WARNING: What you are about to read (or skim) is an AU where Professor Ratigan is not a wanted felon nor is he evil, so that's why he may seem so OOC. I apologize in advance for any spelling or grammatical errors as I lack a beta. So, without further ado, let's get this over and done with.**

Mrs. Delia McKillian was a practical sort of mouse. She was warm, wise, and blessed with extraordinary patience. One would have to be when they had a job like she did. Today, like many other days, she found that gift of hers being pushed to its limit as she listened in on two gossipy socialites sitting in the parlor room.

"I heard that Lady Maria passed last night," one of them was saying in a soft coquettish voice. The second mouse nodded, and sighed sadly.

"Oh yes. It's such dreadful news, isn't it? She was such a warm, lovely lady. It's a shame she had to leave us so soon." The first mouse snapped her fan open.

"I quite agree. I expect her husband is absolutely devastated." She said, fanning herself.

"I should say he is, the poor dear. He loved her so much, his heart must be in shambles." The second mouse replied. Delia sighed sadly. The second mouse was correct. Her tenant was so distraught after his wife's passing, he refused food or drink and didn't leave her side the entire night. The first mouse looked around, then leaned in.

"Might I share a secret with you, Diane dearest?" She asked in a wheedling tone. Diane nodded.

"Certainly, there are no secrets between friends." She said with a smile. Her friend hesitated for a moment.

"I still am quite shocked that a lady of Maria's caliber would stoop so low as to marry a rat." She said in a low voice. Delia winced. She would never understand the mice's negative views on rats. She saw nothing different about them save for their large size and considerable intelligence. Diane had the decency to look appalled.

"Why Viola, why ever would you say such a thing? I think that Maria had quite the catch with the Professor." Viola raised an eyebrow.

"But don't you think it odd of her not to marry within her own species? I mean, what about children? Everyone know mice and rats can't breed." Diane shrugged and sipped her tea.

"They could always adopt," she said simply. "Love is love, I always say."

"But it is just plain wrong, isn't it? I mean, would you marry a rat?" Viola persisted. Diane pursed her lips and thought a moment.

"I wouldn't know, no rat has ever asked me." She said after a while.

"Diane!" Her friend exclaimed incredulously. "You don't mean to tell me that if a rat asked for your paw in marriage that you would consider giving it to him?!" Diane smiled.

"And why not? I would do the same if a mouse asked me. I see no difference between us mice and the rats." Viola raised her eyebrows.

"But there is! Look at the Professor! He's so tall and that tail of his is so long, not to mention his paws! Ugh, I would simply die if a rat ever were to marry me!" Diane rolled her eyes.

"I doubt any self-respecting gentlemurine such as the Professor would ever stoop that low," she muttered under her breath. Delia smiled. She admired the spunk on this mouse. "His stature is of no concern to me, nor is his appearance." Diane continued. "It was his intellect and his gentleness that won Maria over. He is a decent fellow, rat or not." Viola put a paw to her mouth.

"Why Diane, you don't really think that, do you?" Diane stuck out her chin defiantly.

"I do. And do keep your voice down, I'm sure the Professor can hear us through these walls. We are probably causing him enough grief by just being here." Viola pursed her lips.

"Where is he anyways? If he's going to continue to work, shouldn't we be at our lesson?" Diane shrugged.

"Perhaps he's changed his mind. He did just lose his wife after all." Viola crossed her arms.

"I wish he would have the courtesy to let us know beforehand." Delia took this moment to drop in on the girls before Viola said something she'd regret later. She hated it when anyone ragged on the Professor, and she felt especially protective of him now. Diane politely rose and curtsied to the old mouse.

"Afternoon Delia, is the Professor in today?" The housekeeper shook her head.

"I'm afraid not, miss. He had a very rough time of it last evening, and I think he would like to be left alone." She replied, eying Viola and daring her to say something. The socialite frowned.

"I wish he would have told us before we got here," she said with a pout. Delia arranged a smile on her face.

"I will let him know you dropped by and he'll arrange a lesson for you when he feels up to it." Diane nodded.

"Thank you Delia, we appreciate that very much. Oh, and would you be a dear and send my condolences to the Professor about his loss?" Delia nodded.

"Yes marm, I will." Diane smiled at her.

"Wonderful, thank you so much. Come along Viola, I think we've done enough damage for one day." Viola followed after Diane, but not without a lasting look at Delia. The old mouse was used to such looks. She got them all the time when others found out she worked for a rat. She shook her old graying head and wandered into the Professor's study. She bit her lip, feeling a bit apprehensive, but she knocked anyways.

"Professor Ratigan?" She asked meekly. "Professor, it's Delia."

"Come in," came the hoarse reply. Delia frowned and opened the door. The room was dark, and she had trouble seeing where her friend was, so she turned on a few lamps. She found him curled up in the corner of the room, his back was to her.

"I brought you some tea if you would like any," she offered. He didn't move. "Are you hungry at all? Can I get you anything?" Again, there was nothing. The housekeeper sighed and sat beside him. "Please dear, you must eat something. Lady Maria wouldn't want you to starve yourself." His ear twitched and he looked over at her. Delia wanted nothing more than to comfort him, but she knew he wouldn't allow it. The poor creature had been abused over a long period of time and the only one permitted to touch him had died of scarlet fever less than twenty-four hours ago. The rat's dark eyes bored into hers and he sat up.

"Your point is well made as always, Delia." He replied with a sad smile. The housekeeper smiled back at him.

"Flattery won't get me to leave you be. I'm staying here until I know you've eaten. You aren't starving under my watch, young man." She studied what little she could see of him in the low lit room. Viola had been right when she said he was tall. He was nearly twice the size of a tall mouse, and his shoulders were broad. He was rather intimidating at first glance, but Delia knew better. He was a quiet man and usually kept to himself. He hardly spoke at all when she first met him as a wayward Irish immigrant, and it had taken a few years for him to get used to her. He was wary of mice which Delia understood perfectly considering all the poor man had gone through in his life.

"I heard Miss Kingsley and Miss Pertwee outside," he said, breaking into her thoughts. Delia's fur bristled.

"Did you? Why did you not come out and say hello?" He chuckled sadly.

"I was afraid I may frighten off Miss Pertwee. She is a timid girl, and I wouldn't want to frighten her anymore than I already do." Delia groaned inwardly. So he'd heard the conversation after all. Great.

"Miss Pertwee is a world class twit, Padraic. She is not afraid of you, she is merely suspicious of anyone who is different." She replied. He shrugged.

"I would be suspicious of me too, were I her." Delia shook her head.

"That's because you have all the self confidence of a tea spoon." Her comment made him laugh and it did her heart good.

"Another excellent point made, Delia." The two were quiet for a moment until Ratigan sighed. "I suppose I ought to clean myself up a bit, yes?" Delia could see bits of tattered clothing in the lowly lit room, and she nodded.

"It's up to you, Professor. Personally, I think Lady Maria would want you to pick yourself up as well." This earned her another sad chuckle.

"Maria would nail my wretched hide to the wall if she could see me now," he said, running a paw through his hair. "She was a natural at giving me a good kick in the pants when I needed it." Delia smiled at him, chancing patting his arm. She considered it a small victory when he didn't pull away.

"Well, I suppose that's up to old Delia now, huh?" The rat smiled at her.

"Indeed. I don't know where I would be without you, Delia." There was another pause, and the rat got to his feet. "I'll take that tea now," he said as he started brightening up the room. Delia nodded and headed back to get her tray. Ratigan parted the curtains, stealing a glance outside. It was raining, of course. Even London wept for the loss of his sweet little wife. With another heavy sigh, he let the curtain fall and he began to pick himself up as his Maria would have wanted.

**Thanks for taking the time to read! Leave a review on the way out. But please no mindless hatred. If you have some constructive criticism, gladly leave it or PM me here on the site. I am always looking for insight. Thank you.**


	2. The Children

Three years passed, and the house still seemed empty to the housekeeper and her charge. Maria was the sort of woman that could brighten up a room by just arriving. She had an infectious laugh and her sunny disposition was one of the many things both rat and mouse adored about her. Without Maria's light in his life, Ratigan seemed darker somehow, and it worried Delia greatly.

The housekeeper handed him a tray with his breakfast and he nodded his thanks as per usual, sorting through what little mail he had.

"Miss Kingsley called again today," Delia said after a while. Ratigan looked up at her, ears perking.

"Oh? And what did she want?" He asked, glancing back down again.

"She was inquiring about you, Professor. She asked me how you were and how you were...coping." Ratigan did not look up at her again.

"I see. What did you tell her?" The housekeeper stirred her porridge idly.

"Well, I told her that you were just fine, but the house seemed too quiet lately. I invited her to call again when you weren't busy." Ratigan looked up at Delia, raising his eyebrows.

"Miss Kingsley should not be calling on me," he said gravely. "I'm sure her friends would be mortified to know she was associating with a rat." Delia shrugged.

"Miss Kingsley doesn't care about the difference in species, Professor. And she has been here before, taking music lessons from you." Ratigan shrugged, sipping his tea as he read through a letter.

"Music lessons are not social visits," he began. "It isn't as if I do not welcome her company, but I don't wish to turn such a promising young talent into a social pariah."

"I can always tell her not to come by if that's what you want," Delia said, her ears perking down. Ratigan shook his head.

"No, no let her come by. I was merely expressing my concerns." He frowned, re-reading the letter. "Hmm, it seems the house may be getting some color after all." Delia raised an eyebrow.

"How do you mean?" She asked. Ratigan handed her the letter.

_"Dearest Padraic,_

_My, it has been a while since we've last spoken, hasn't it? I am truly sorry to hear about Maria, the two of us were practically sisters. She would always make me smile whenever I would come for my lesson. But I am not writing to you to dwell on such unhappiness. Naturally, due to your hard work and patience, I have been quite successful in my career. But like most performers, I am having difficulty caring for my children whilst I am called away to so many places. I would take them with me, but I can only watch them for so long, and I don't wish to have a stranger care for them. Then I thought of you. You always were so good with them, and they are all very excited to see you again. If it isn't too much trouble, could you care for my children while I am gone? Please write me back as soon as possible with your answer._

_Most sincerely,_

_Lauralyn Bennett."_

Delia glanced over the letter at her employer who took a sip of his tea.

"Well, I expect having the children around would do you some good, Professor." She said with a smile. Ratigan shrugged, staring down at the saucer and his ears perked down.

"She was better with the children than I," he started softly. "I would like nothing better than to assist Mrs. Bennett, but I'm afraid that I will be very poor company for them. And I don't know the slightest thing about caring for children." Delia patted his paw.

"Well, that's why you have me, sugar." She said with a reassuring smile. "I've been caring for children for a long time now. And I took great care of you, didn't I?" Ratigan gave her a small smile back.

"Indeed, but I was no child. I was merely a tired Irish immigrant with little to no pocket money." The housekeeper cleared her space and headed to the sink.

"And look how great you turned out. Professor, I think having the kids here would add some spark to your life. It's what your wife would have wanted. But if you still think you need some help, you could always put an ad in the paper for a nanny." Ratigan's ears perked back up.

"That's the most sensible thing I have heard all morning." He said with a smile. "I'll put an ad in after they arrive. I don't want them to be unprepared." He stood up and was about to head into his study, but he turned around before he left. "Thank you, Delia. Honestly, I don't know what I'd do without you." The mouse smiled at him and shooed him out of the kitchen so he could write his response.

* * *

A week later, Ratigan received a telegram informing him to pick up the children at King's Cross station. He stood in the station, leaning against the stone pillar and waiting for the train to arrive. He got a few stares from the mice who were also waiting around, but he paid them no heed. He was used to being stared at due to what he was. After a few minutes, he thought he felt that someone was watching him and he sighed, glancing over his shoulder to find a mouse staring at him.

"May I help you, sir?" He asked, trying to hide the irritation creeping into his voice. The mouse bristled, a bit put off by being addressed (and so politely too) by a rat.

"I wouldn't expect you to be able to read, my good sir, but your kind is not welcome on this platform." He pointed at a sign a few columns away that read, "No rats." Ratigan did not look away from the mouse, nor did he flinch at the poison in his tone.

"I'm terribly sorry, I didn't know. But I am not harming anyone by simply standing here, am I?" He inquired innocently. The mouse did not soften his gaze, nor did he fix his insulting tone.

"You're breaking the law, but I suppose you aren't harming anyone. Provided no one provokes you. Lord knows what a rat will do when it's provoked." Ratigan appeared to mull that over.

"Well, that's true, but I'm sure no one would be foolish enough to provoke something nearly twice their size. They would either be very brave, or very stupid. And besides, am I not allowed to wait for an arrival like anyone else?" He inquired. The mouse shook his head.

"Certainly not. Rats are not considered citizens or even civilized. And what's more, your kind travels by boat or sewer. What need would they have for a train?" Ratigan shrugged.

"What would you say if I were to tell you that I was waiting for four mouse children?" The mouse scoffed.

"I would call you a liar. Rats and mice are not allowed to interact." The rat surprised the mouse by smiling at him, chuckling.

"Ah, but we are already interacting, are we not? So, in any case the point is moot. Do not fret sir, I will not be long. As soon as the train pulls up, I will take my leave and you won't have to deal with me or my ilk again, I promise you." The mouse narrowed his eyes, getting more than a bit annoyed with the rat's civil tone. He wasn't responding the way most rats would, with shrieks and anger. This one was thoughtful and quite articulate. He'd never encountered a rat like this before.

"And what is that worth, the promise of a sewer rat?" He said, folding his arms over his chest. Ratigan shook his head.

"I don't ask you to trust the word of a rat, but rather one of a fellow gentleman." The mouse scoffed again as the train arrived. The nerve of him! Trying to equate himself with society!

"You're no gentleman, you're nothing more than a beast pretending to be tamed." The mouse sneered and began to walk away, but turned again. "And if I catch you here again, I will have the Yard here in a heartbeat. You won't be so cheeky and confident then." Ratigan was not fazed, and he nodded.

"Consider your warning heeded, my good mouse. I'll not trouble you again." The mouse headed back to wherever he came from while the train pulled to a stop. Mice of all ages piled off of the train and Ratigan waited until he saw the familiar bill of a familiar paper boy cap. As if on cue, four mouse children of various ages stepped off of the train. The eldest girl, a sweet faced little mouse named Lucille ran to him and Ratigan knelt down so she could throw her arms around his neck in a hug.

"Uncle James!" She exclaimed. "I'm so happy to see you!" He smiled and released her, ignoring the scandalized looks he was getting.

"Hello Lucy, darling. How are you?" The little mouse giggled and shrugged.

"Oh, I'm all right. We heard about Auntie Maria. Mama says that she's real sorry. And so are we." Ratigan winced a bit inside, but he appeared calm and collected on the outside.

"Thank you, child. It's appreciated." He looked up to find the eldest, Thomas, holding the paws of the younger children, Michael and Nettie. "Hello Thomas," he said with a smile. "Michael, Nettie." He nodded at the other two. Nettie squeaked a hello and hid behind Thomas's back shyly. The rat straightened up, (wincing a bit as his bad knee popped) and addressed the four charges. "We should be on our way, my dears. The carriage will be leaving soon. And we all know that your uncle isn't exactly welcome here in the station." Thomas walked by the rat's side as Ratigan lifted Nettie up. The little mouse girl squeaked with joy as he placed her on his shoulders.

"Why aren't you allowed in the station, Uncle James?" Thomas asked as they walked.

"Because Uncle James is a rat, silly." Lucy answered. "Rats aren't usually allowed anywhere but the Queen is working to fix that." Thomas gave his sister the stinkeye.

"I was asking Uncle James, not you." Lucy responded by sticking her tongue out at him. Ratigan chuckled.

"Children, please don't fight now. We're almost there." Michael took the rat's paw and Ratigan glanced down at him.

"Uncle James, how come nobody likes the rats?" He asked softly. Lucy was about to tell her youngest brother not to ask such personal questions, but Ratigan humored the little boy.

"Well, the rats are very different from the mice. And sometimes differences can be frightening to others." He answered as best he could.

"But Auntie Maria didn't think so," Thomas brought up. Ratigan smiled at him a little sadly.

"Auntie Maria was a very different mouse, lad. She was one of the few who figured that the rats were just like mice, only bigger. You know," he began, wanting to drop the subject of his late wife. "The rats aren't really as similar to mice as we are to our weasel cousins." The children looked up at him, ears perked forwards.

"Really? How?" Lucy asked as they all climbed into the carriage. Ratigan chuckled as Nettie claimed his lap, tucking her head against his arm.

"Scientifically, the rat is more closely related to the weasel. Weasels have similar face and body structure, and have five fingers as I do. They even walk and run the same. Mice on the other paw resemble hamsters, squirrels, and gerbils. And some rats, especially the wild ones around here are carnivores."

"What's a carnivore?" Michael asked.

"It means they eat red meat," Thomas answered him. "Maybe that's why some mice think that rats eat mice, right Uncle James?" Ratigan shrugged.

"It's quite possible." He replied. "But I haven't met any."

"Do you eat mice, Uncle James?" Michael asked. Lucy gasped sharply.

"Michael!" She said, clapping a paw over his mouth. Ratigan smiled and shook his head.

"No, my dear I do not. I am more partial to fish than red meat."

"Jus' like Auntie Fish!" Nettie said in her baby talk. Ratigan laughed.

"Yes, I suppose it is similar to what Felicia eats." Felicia was the cat who lived with the humans above him. He had stumbled across the Angora cat when she was naught but a kitten and he had been stealing some yarn to fix the curtains in the study. She'd mistaken him for a fellow cat and made feeble attempts to get him to play with her. Ratigan had humored her after she hindered his escape attempts by leaping in front of him. The two had become lifelong friends since then.

* * *

A little while later, the carriage had pulled up to the house and Ratigan hopped out to help his young guests with their luggage. Delia was in the doorway, waiting for them with a smile on her face.

"Hello, my dears!" The housekeeper said warmly as the children headed over to hug her. "I have lunch ready for you."

"Do you have cookies, too Miss Delia?" Michael asked anxiously, his big light blue eyes brightening. Delia smiled and patted the boy's head.

"Of course I do. But you've got to finish up your lunch before we get to the cookies, right?" All four little heads nodded and headed inside while their godfather tailed behind. Delia smiled at him before closing the door. "Maybe now we can get you to lighten up a bit, eh Professor?" Ratigan couldn't help but hope so as well.

**Thank you very much for the reviews, guys. ^^ I really do appreciate you giving my weirdness so much as a glance. I know it isn't the best thing you've ever read. Next chapter should be posted a little sooner. Enjoy, and leave me a review on the way out. If you want, that is.**


	3. The Diva

Down the street and across a few other districts, someone else was also in need of lightening up. At least, if she were being honest with herself she would. Lady Sarah Caultry, former Prima Donna and darling of England, sat in front of a cracked vanity mirror. She powdered her face appropriately before getting a good look at herself. Her ears perked up when she heard a knock on her door.

"Yes? Come in!" She called without taking her eyes off of the mirror. Her door opened and revealed Miss Kitty wearing a light blue dressing robe. Sarah smiled and turned in her seat. "Ah, _god middag_ Kitty! Did you need something?" The rat asked as she started to brush her hair. Kitty took a seat in the chair near Sarah's bed, crossing her legs.

"I just thought I'd see how you were doing," the white mouse said with a shrug. "I was just looking through the paper and I found something that I thought you might be interested in." Sarah looked excited.

"Is the opera hiring again?" She asked, her eyes lighting up. Kitty smiled sympathetically and shook her head.

"Sorry, but no. The season starts next week." Sarah's ears drooped and she pouted.

"Oh, I see. Then what did you think I would be so interested in?" The rat asked as she turned back to her mirror. Kitty flipped through the paper.

"You remember that friend I was telling you about? You know, the one that gave me voice lessons about a hundred years ago?" Sarah laughed at her friend's joke.

"Yes, why do you bring him up now?" Kitty grinned.

"Well, when I read through the classified ads, I noticed that this same friend of mine put one in. I figured that since you're trying to get back into opera, that it would be good to have connections. A lot of the company's best Prima Donnas came through him." Sarah lifted an eyebrow.

"What need do I have for music lessons? I was already considered one of the best. I don't need training." Kitty shook her head.

"I wasn't talking about getting lessons from him, I was talking about working for him. See, he lost his wife about three years ago and now he's saddled with four kids to babysit. I figured that since he's regarded by so many in the opera business that it would be opportune for you to get in good with him by watching those children. I know how much you love kids." Sarah shot the paper a look as if it had just insulted her.

"Kitty, I am a performer." She said as she fixed her hair. "I am not a nursemaid. Besides, I have better things to do than watch some rich idiot's spoilt children. The stage is where I belong, not in some stuffy house." Kitty crossed her arms.

"Aw, come on Sarah, you haven't even met him or the kids. And besides, you can't stay in the Rat Trap for long. Clarissa's about ready to blow a gasket, and you've already contemplated murdering her at least three times now!" Sarah scoffed.

"Please, that little mouse is the least of my worries. I can handle her." Clarissa was one of the premiere girls at the Rat Trap who did not get along with the rat diva. She had been in the limelight for several years until Sarah stole her thunder as one of the most sought after showgirls in London. Needless to say, the feeling was mutual and Sarah had no qualms with getting physical with the little tart to teach her a lesson. The mouse laid a paw on Sarah's shoulder.

"I have no doubt of that, Sarah. You know I don't." She frowned and took her paw away. "But the other girls and I are really getting sick of the two of you fighting all the time! And Clarissa's threatened to go to Mouseland Yard if you don't stop attacking her." Sarah's ears pinned back.

"Attack her? Attack her?! I am not the ones that start these fights! _Cette petite salope a du culot! Je vais lui montrer une chose ou deux, elle va voir_!" Kitty waited for the rat to calm down before speaking again. Once Sarah started ranting in French, that usually meant she was very, very angry. "_Je vais lui donner une leçon qu'elle n'oubliera pas!_" Kitty took her friend by the paw, sighing.

"Look, I know that she usually starts the fights, but Sarah, you're usually the one that causes them to get violent! And we all know who looks guilty in the eyes of the Yard. The way I see it, this is a great opportunity for you." Sarah took a deep breath to calm herself down.

"But Kitty, this man wouldn't hire someone like me. No self-respecting gentleman would want a rat anywhere near their children!" Kitty smirked at her.

"They would if they were a rat too." She said with a wink. Sarah looked taken aback.

"What?" She asked, tilting her head. Kitty grinned.

"I never told you? The Professor's a rat, just like you! Of course he'd trust you." Sarah mulled that over in her head a moment, thinking.

"Well, I suppose it wouldn't hurt to take a look. And if he provides room and board, I could probably get away from that_ puttana_ Clarissa. All right, Kitty. I'll try it out." She frowned then. "And if I don't like it, you let me be and I'll deal with Clarissa my way, all right? I don't care if you have to throw me out or not. I'll earn my living elsewhere." Kitty nodded.

"All right, Sarah. It's a deal."

* * *

**Thank you oh so much for the lovely reviews as always! ^^**

**Sorry about all the other languages, but Sarah is an opera singer and as such knows many languages. Anyways, I've come to realize that is is my first introduction to Sarah on this site. O_O Wow...she must have made quite the impression here with her being rather violent and foul-mouthed as you'll soon find out. Truth be told, she doesn't act this way in my Canon!GMD fanfictions, so this isn't ****_really_**** the way that she acts.**

**Here are the translations:**

***God middag (Swedish) = Good afternoon**

***Cette petite salope a du culot (French) = The nerve of that little bitch!**

***Je vais lui montrer une chose ou deux, elle va voir (French) = I'll teach her a thing or two, see if I won't!**

***Je vais lui donner une leçon qu'elle n'oubliera pas! (French) = I'll teach her a lesson she won't forget!**

***Vafalls? (Swedish) = Pardon?**

***puttana (Italian) = whore**

**And remember kids, I don't own anything except for any OCs or other characters you don't recognize. Everything else belongs to The Mouse. Be sure to leave a review on the way out! ^^**


	4. Interview

Back in the Ratigan household, everything had become a whirl of chaos. Delia had her paws full with looking after the children while the staff prepared and helped set up interviews for any of the interested nannies that showed up. Not everyone was as thrilled as the kids were about this, especially the head maid Miss Faith Summers.

"I don't see why he can't take time off of work to spend some time with the children It's not like what he does is important." The mouse was complaining as she always did when she had to do anything. Faith was not the most helpful of creatures, and it amazed most of the staff that she even got the job in the first place. Most of them speculated that it was because Faith was a very pretty mouse with golden and white fur and warm brown eyes. One look from her could make any hot-blooded male fall under her spell, and that included Ratigan. He had a very noticeable weakness for all that was beautiful.

"His job is quite demanding, Miss Faith." Delia said as she rapped a seeking paw with her wooden spoon (Thomas squeaked and sucked the rapped paw). "He works very hard to see clients, and they aren't very understanding about the whole situation at times." Faith shrugged her dainty shoulders.

"Why doesn't he quit and do something else? It's what I would do." Delia lifted a curious Nettie away from one of her best cook pots with her tail.

"You're a mouse, Miss Faith. You would get another job somehow. Our Professor is a rat, and the best job he would be able to get is mudlarking." Faith raised an eyebrow.

"That's no outlook to have, Delia. He's no rat, he hardly acts like those uncivilized brutes." Delia sighed as she pulled Nettie from the cupboards again.

"You see? That's why he can't quit his job. That mindset right there." Faith just shrugged and flounced off to do something else to help ready the house while Delia just shook her head. "Why he hired her as head maid, I'll never know." The old mouse said to Nettie. Nettie only grabbed her muzzle and grinned.

* * *

Meanwhile, on the second floor of the house, the other children were watching the nannies pile in one by one from the stairwell.

"Ooh, what about her? I'll bet she'd be lots of fun!" Lucy said as she pointed at one of the mice. Thomas shook his head.

"She'd probably quit after one days of dealing with us. What about that one?" Michael made a face.

"She has a mole on her chin!" Lucy rapped him on the nose.

"Physical appearance does not make the rodent," she said. "At least that's what Miss Faith always says." Thomas rolled his eyes.

"Sure, after she starts criticizing everyone else about how they look." Lucy couldn't help but agree with that. A few moments of silent scanning later, they all heard the jingle of a bell. Miss Dinah Hawkins had appeared at the stairwell, smiling at them.

"Hello Thomas, Michael, Lucy," she nodded at each of them. "What brings you three to the top of the stairs?"

"Hello, Miss Dinah!" Lucy chirped. "We're just watching the nannies and waiting for Uncle James to pick the best one. So far, there hasn't been any good ones." Dinah sat down with them and watched the nannies too.

"There's an awful lot of mice down there," she mused. The children nodded.

"Yeah, and a few of them leave as soon as they get here," Thomas added with a slight scowl. "They don't even give Uncle James a chance to talk. They just leave as soon as they see him." Michael tugged on Dinah's tail.

"It's cause he's a rat, right Miss Dinah?" The gerbil nodded, sighing.

"Yes, I'm afraid that's why, Michael. It's unfair, you know. Your godfather is a hardworking, honest rat. He wouldn't hurt anyone, I really don't understand why everyone's so afraid of him." Lucy's eyes widened.

"They're AFRAID of Uncle James? But he's not scary! He's just big!" Dinah smiled sadly over at Lucy.

"Sometimes people are so afraid of what's different that they don't give them a chance." She looked back at the nannies. "They just can't understand that." Michael tugged on her skirts.

"Are people afraid of you, Miss Dinah?" The gerbil laughed.

"No, they just think I'm a strange looking mouse with a bell on her tail. They aren't afraid of me at all." Before the children could say anything more, Delia had appeared with her roller in tow.

"Dinah, I thought I asked you to help me downstairs in the kitchen." The gerbil's ears perked and she hopped to her feet.

"Oh, I'm sorry Delia. I was just-" the mouse help up a paw.

"Save it for later, sugar. We've got work to do." Dinah nodded and headed downstairs with a small smile at the children.

"Duty calls, I'll be back later." Delia in the meantime, handed baby Nettie over to Lucy.

"This little rascal is getting into everything. Can you keep an eye on her for me, honey?" Lucy nodded.

"Okay, Miss Delia." The mouse smiled and ruffled the girl's hair.

"Thanks darlin'. Your godfather should be done real soon, all right?" The children nodded and Delia headed back down to the kitchen, giving orders as she went.

* * *

Sarah stood outside the house with her papers neatly pressed and held together in her gloved paws. She had put on her best gown and made sure every bit of her was perfect and demure the way a woman was seen these days. Though she outright refused Kitty's idea to wear a corset ("Have you any idea what these things do to your insides?!") as was required of proper Mousetorian ladies, she'd still put on a bustier and she was a tad uncomfortable. She headed into the house among the other ladies applying for the job, watching as a few of them left looking ashen. She didn't wish to dwell on the idea that her potential employer might be a bit more intimidating than Kitty had told her, so she did her best to push it from her mind. She sat in the parlor room with a few other ladies (mostly mice, she noticed) and a few eyes locked on her. She supposed she looked a tad out of place. These ladies looked as if they were dressed for church, while she looked like she was ready to go out for a Sunday stroll. Perhaps she had gone too extravagant again? Looking around here, it certainly seemed so and the lady had a sudden urge to bolt until a light-furred rat showed up, collecting resumes.

Sarah handed hers to him with a confidence that was born with her years on the stage and the fair-colored rat smiled back and winked at her.

"Thanks so much for applying, ladies." He said as he straightened up. "Now, a few things before we begin again. I don't want any surprises here, so I'll come right out and say it. You will be working for a rat and among other species besides mice if you're hired. Now, is there anyone here who has a problem with that? If there is, I ask you to leave now." A few ladies stood and headed out the door, but Sarah and only two others staid where they were. The fair-furred rat gave each of them a winning smile. "Now, that's more like it. I'll call your name, and Miss Summers here will escort you to the study and you'll be interviewed by the Professor himself. Each interview should only take about fifteen to twenty minutes. In the meantime, we have some refreshments and a few books to read, if you'd like. I very much look forward to working with you." He gave a significant nod in Sarah's direction, and the lady rat smiled back at him. All she had to do was wait until her name was called, and that would be when the real test would begin.

She hoped that he wouldn't ask her too many questions about her profession. She had to lie quite a bit on her resume (she was certain that he wouldn't want a showgirl around his children, rat or not). Almost everything right down to her name was fake on the piece of paper the fair-furred rat was holding. She figured that if this rat was so respected in mouse society, that it wouldn't do to tell him who she was, what she did, or even where she was from. She'd made that mistake before and she'd had the worst time getting hired. So, lies it would be. She could only hope that she'd done a good job of it, otherwise she'd be in a lot of trouble.

"Miss Caultry? Miss Sarah Caultry?" The fair-furred rat asked. Sarah nearly jumped not realizing that time had just flown by without her knowing, and the lady rat stood up.

"Yes, that's me." She said in her best imitation of an English accent. The rat smiled at her and held out his paw.

"It's nice to meet you, Miss Caultry. I'm Jonathan Langley. This is Miss Faith Summers and she'll be taking you to the study." Sarah glanced at the mouse in question and smiled, but she did not get a smile back. The mouse merely sniffed and strolled away.

"Follow me, please." She said plainly. Sarah nodded and headed after her with a look back at Jonathan. The rat smiled and walked with her a bit.

"Now, don't you worry about this. The Professor may look intimidating, but he won't hurt you. He's not nearly as scary as people would have you believe." Sarah shrugged.

"Thank you for the reassurance, but I have worked for a few rats in my time. I'm not a frightened little mouse if you'll pardon the expression." Jonathan nodded and grinned.

"Good, you'll fit right in then." Faith shot him a look.

"Mr. Langley, don't you have some flowers that need tending to?" She asked with a raised eyebrow. The rat shrugged.

"I guess, I just thought I'd make her feel welcome." The mouse shook her head.

"She doesn't need that or your advice. Go tend to the garden, and I'll take care of this." Jonathan sighed and rolled his eyes when she wasn't looking.

"Try not to scare this one off either, will you?" The rat called back as he headed outside. Sarah in the meantime, said nothing and kept following after the mouse.

"I trust you know what to expect of the children?" Faith asked suddenly.

"Not really, I haven't met them yet." The rat answered as best she could. Faith shrugged.

"That may be, but do you have any experience in dealing with children?" The mouse pressed, looking at the rat expectantly. Sarah smiled.

"Certainly. If you've seen my resume, you'll know I'm highly qualified to be caring for those adorable little mice." Faith clicked her tongue.

"Of course you would think that, but how am I to know unless I know?" Sarah wrinkled her nose.

"Beg pardon?"

"Rats have excellent hearing, I'm sure you heard what I said." The mouse retorted. Sarah's ears pinned back against her skull.

"Oh I heard you just fine," she said with a tight edge to her voice. "I just didn't understand what you meant." Faith smiled at her as if she were a petulant child.

"Of course you didn't. But no matter, I'm sure you'll fit in here just fine. Especially with all of your..." she looked her up and down then. "...qualifications." Sarah had to take several deep breaths to keep herself from teaching the snooty little mousette a lesson in manners. And before she knew it, she was standing before a giant wooden door and Faith turned to smile rather coldly at her. "I'd wish you well, but I'm sure you won't need it. He knows a sour tart when he sees one." Sarah was about to unleash a string of every colorful curse she knew (and even some she made up) when the door opened and a very large shadow fell over both of them, and Sarah felt her ears prick down as she looked up. She considered herself to be a tall rat, but this gentleman had a good head or two on her. He smiled down at her, displaying a set of fine sharp teeth before dismissing the snooty mouse maid that brought her down here.

"That will be all Miss Faith. Thank you." The mouse nodded and headed back into the parlor room. He nodded at Sarah, still smiling. "You may come in, dear. There's no need to be so nervous." The lady rat smiled back at him, grateful for his friendliness and headed into his study. It was a cozy room with a wall of books and a fireplace along with a walnut desk and two armchairs. The curtains were drawn, and the room was quite dark.

"Are you some sort of fantastical creature out of Poe's works?" Sarah asked without thinking. The rat raised an eyebrow.

"I'm...sorry?" She looked around the room.

"You've drawn the curtains, and the fire isn't lit. It reminds me of one of his stories where the villain or whatever he was had heightened senses." He chuckled.

"You might have to be more specific, my dear. Poe wrote those kinds of characters quite often. Are you a fan of his works, by any chance?" She shrugged, and gave him her best demure expression.

"Being a woman, I'm not expected to be learned." She gave him an impish smile, then. "But honestly, I get the shivers when I hear anyone speak his work. He has a lovely prose." He sat her down first and then sat across from her, shaking his head.

"It's a foolish thing to keep a woman from being educated because of her gender. Really, what harm could it do?" Sarah looked down at the desk, wondering how to respond. This was new.

"Perhaps men would realize how foolish they are in comparison?" She said, again without thinking and she wished she'd kept quiet. Fortunately for her, the professor laughed.

"Perhaps so!" He replied. "Now, I suppose we should get on with it, yes?" She nodded. "Your resume is quite impressive." The rat said, fishing in his jacket for something. He pulled out a pair of half moon spectacles and smiled at her apologetically. "They usually say the mind is the first thing to go, but in my case it seems to be eyesight. Oh, the perks of getting older, hmm?" Sarah didn't trust herself to respond correctly and she kept silent. He read through her resume and his eyes widened a little. "So, Miss Caultry you're originally from Canterbury?" He asked with a smile. She nodded.

"Born and raised," she replied, smiling back. He tilted his head, his ears perking forward.

"How very strange, your accent sounds different." If she was fazed, she hoped to whatever deity she still had faith left in that it didn't show.

"How so?" She asked, folding her paws in her lap so he wouldn't see them shake. His ears turned and twitched around.

"You have a peculiar way of enunciating. It almost sounds French instead of English, along with something...perhaps a bit more Nordic. Hungary, perhaps?"

'Close, but no cigar,' Sarah thought to herself. "My grandmother on my mother's side was French, and I did spend a bit of time in Paris when I was traveling abroad, so I guess I could have picked it up there." She answered. He nodded, looking thoughtful.

"I suppose so too. Language is a fascinating thing, is it not? I spent most of my younger life in Dublin and yet after a few months here, I had no trace of an Irish accent at all." He chuckled. "Dialects are quite influential. I often wonder if that's how language is spread so far." He sighed then. "But I am getting off topic. I do apologize Miss Caultry. I have a terrible habit of rambling when discussing a subject I'm interested in." Sarah smiled at him.

"Oh, that's all right. Are you an English professor?" He shook his head.

"Oh no, I teach music. But I consider them to be nearly one in the same. Both are expressed using voice and tone, one is just expressed in music instead of the spoken word." He frowned. "Terribly sorry, I'm getting off subject again. Now, where were we? Ah yes, now your resume is very impressive, and I would like to get to know you a bit more." He blushed. "Of course not in the way you interpret it, I mean you probably don't interpret it that way, but others might and often do and I am really quite terrible at this, aren't I?" He ran a paw over his face. "To be honest, I'm surprised you didn't run out as soon as you met me. I guess you could say you're the only one who stayed long enough to really be interviewed." Sarah did her best to either hide her giggles or smother them so she wouldn't embarrass the poor thing. It was obvious he was new at this and his shyness and awkward glances was making it difficult to maintain a professional image. They went over her qualifications, and he asked about her life and why she wanted/needed the job. Though she wasn't being honest with him, she felt as if she could speak openly with him and that sort of freedom was nearly empowering for her. She'd have to remember to thank Kitty later. "When can you start?" He asked after a while. Sarah lifted an eyebrow.

"You mean...you mean I have the job?" He smiled at her.

"Seeing as you're the only one who showed up for the actual interview, I'd say so." Professional image be damned, she was up out of her seat and hugging him.

"Oh thank you! Thank you so much!" He looked rather confused and she let him go with a small cough after realizing she'd thrown her arms around him. "Anyways, I can't work Tuesdays or Fridays, but I can work every other day of the week." She smiled. He nodded and smiled.

"Dinah could take over those days, so that isn't a problem. Now, all we really have to do is show you around. Oh, and meet the children of course. And thank you again for doing this. It is greatly appreciated." Sarah gave him a wide smile.

"I can't wait to get started."

**Sweet Walt's mustache, this is a LONG chapter. O_O I apologize for that, and there won't be many wall o' texts down the fanfic road, so...enjoy. ^^ And thanks for the reviews, guys. Be sure to keep leaving me feedback! :D**


End file.
